


More than a Shadow and Less than a Soul

by UhhAssholes



Category: Original Work
Genre: Betrayal, Dimension Travel, Government Conspiracy, Government Experimentation, Inspired by Stranger Things (TV 2016), Plot, Plot Twists, Romance, Shadow Realm, Some Humor, Superpowers, World Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:46:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26871637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UhhAssholes/pseuds/UhhAssholes
Summary: Capture a shadow, dance with the wind, stand in a rainbow, begin at the end.Yasmin had always understood. The light didn't like her. You know why? Because light is supposed to shine on the truth, yet she's still being stuck in the dark to how her father died. She's determined to get answers. That was, until she discovered that sinister things lurk in the void. She, and all the others, need to find a way to escape this midnight hell, before they become more like the monsters that reside there. She knows they will make it back, but the question is, will they be the same kids that left?
Kudos: 2





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> First work I'm going to dedicate myself to. The first chapter will be temporarily empty, as I'm doing this so I don't forget.

**The Centuplicates Parents Thread.**

**Raico** ⋅ _4 days ago_

Hey. I started this thread because, hey, we all have something in common, right? We all had our kids disappear one day, 3 years ago. But has any body else noticed something a bit... off about your kids?

**JereMyIceCream** ⋅ _4 days ago_

Anybody*

Don't forget, grammar is important. And yes. I've already discussed this with other parents as well. Our kids did not come back the same. For some it's emotional, or psychological. For others it's... physical. My daughter got lucky. So far, she only has a strand of white hair. Strangely, it can't be dyed, but she says she likes it, and that's good enough for me.

**FatherOfTheSun** ⋅ _3 days 20 hrs ago_

My son seems largely unaffected. The only thing different about him is that he smells like ash? And every now and then, there'll be ash on his clothes, and even if I try to brush it off, it stays. But if that's it, then I'll do fine. I'll update you about anything else.

**MyChldIsADmn** ⋅ _3 days and 19 hrs ago_

You all got dealt the good cards. I'm sitting here wondering if these are even our kids or not.

**SouthernMotherin'** ⋅ _3 days and 19 hrs ago_

Darling, of course these are still our children. Some of them may look a lil' different, but they're still our kids! How could you think such a thing as a father/mother?

**MyChldIsADmn** ⋅ _2 days ago_

Sorry for not replying sooner, we all need sleep after all. And the reason I'm thinking that is because they just got home 3 weeks ago, and already she doesn't play with her toys, she doesn't want any apple juice, which she used to love, and she doesn't seem filled with the same kind of happiness. That alone is not enough for me too think that, I know. But she came back as a demon, I swear. Whenever she gets angry, her eyes turn pitch black. I'd almost say they turned into voids if I didn't see the light reflect off them. And the fear it instills in me... I don't think I can last much longer. And lastly, how dare you for looking down on me!? You probably got one of the kids with little to no difference, didn't you?

**SouthernMotherin'** ⋅ _2 days ago_

My sons hand is dead and mummified. Yet he can still move it. And I can tell it's cursed. Whatever he touches is imbued with some kind of bad luck witchcraft. But he's my son, and I love him unconditionally. I'm not saying our children ain't different, I'm saying they're not evil, and they're not demons. Pull yerself together, because that is the only way we can figure this out.

**FatherOfTheSun** ⋅ _3 hrs ago_

Something is weird. We were about to throw my son his 23rd birthday party. We planned to make it big to make up for the fact that we weren't there to celebrate the others. But he said there was no need. When I asked why he said, "Because I'm 19." I tried to tell him that 3 years had passed, but before I could finish he said, "I know. Some of us aged. Some of us didn't. But, if you want proof, we can go to the doctor. They have the ability to tell." So we did. And sure enough, he was right. The doctor said the enzymes in his blood from when he's an adult aren't all there. He said my son was about 18-19. Did anybody else's kids age? And he keeps getting on the phone with someone. I know his name, but I won't say it. But, is something going on? Something... bigger than us?

* * *

"It seems," said the voice behind the man at the computer, "That Mr. Tyson is suspecting too much. He may need to be... terminated. See that it is taken care of, Dr. Wilson."

"I have a three PhD's in Astrophysical Sciences and Technology, and the best you can have me do is send out a kill order?" growled Mr. Wilson, obviously upset.

The voice spoke again. "I could have you terminated instead, if it would please you more, Mr. Wilson."

Mr. Wilson swallowed, knowing he had spoken out of turn.

"Good," Came the voice again, the darkness only barely penetrated by the glow of the computer screens. The silhouette from which the voice came from moved a glove forward onto Mr. Wilson's shoulder. "Now do as I say." He hissed, his face still staying out of the light.

"Yes sir. Right away sir." Mr. Wilson stated, sweat running down his temple. With a few quick clicks on the keypad, Mr. Tyson was firmly locked in their sights. He wouldn't be breathing much longer.

"Secure the boy," the voice answered, voice quiet, almost contemplative, "His, difference, doesn't seem very useful, but maybe we could use him as leverage."

"Leverage for what? Uh, sir!" Dr. Wilson blurted, sounding almost choked. His chair was shaking with the slight quivers of his body.

"Why, to find the others, of course." Purred the voice, right next to Dr. Wilson's face. The only visible part of his face was his gleaming teeth. And the scarred flesh that surrounded it.


	2. Effigy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meet Taylor. She disappeared a happy person, with underlying issues. They came back with all their issues sorted, knowing that if they were to tell people, it might cause complications. Taylor has something secret about them, several things, actually. Some they hide, some they're tired of hiding, and some are new. They've let a few out since they've been back, and they haven't been happier. But when everything comes crashing down, can they reunite with the others?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you guess what their power is? Put your answer in the comments.

_Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick._

Cue the audible sigh that escaped my lips. I shifted my focus from the utterly boring clock on the wall to the butterfly knife I was currently flipping around. It takes a certain level of skill. I snorted. _Just like pretending I like it here._

Let me give you the run down. One day, three years and about 4 months ago, 100 kids from all around the world went missing. Nobody knows where we went. Except us, of course. But, right before we left where we had disappeared to, we swore ourselves to secrecy, not speaking about it with anyone except each other. It's not like anybody would believe us anyway.

"Mrs. Taylor? She's ready for you." spoke one of the office ladies from around the door. She wore a blank expression, but I could tell she didn't like me. That's fine. I honestly couldn't care less.

Bracing myself on the arms of the chair I had been leisurely sitting on(incorrectly if the lady across from me had anything to say about it) to push off of in make my way to the door.

"I'm afraid you'll have to leave that out here. Weapons of any sort aren't allowed in the therapist's office. You know this. We go over it every week." sighed the office lady.

"And hopefully for many years to come, Paulina." I sarcastically replied, dropping the folded knife in her outstretched hand before continuing through the door.

"I'd give you directions if I didn't think you already knew them by heart." Paulina called dryly, before taking my knife to the checkout area in the front. I rolled my eyes as I walked down the hallway to room 2B. 

_Go on, Taylor. It's just another therapy session,_ I mentally sighed, my hand resting on the doorknob. _How bad could it be?_

* * *

Very bad, it turns out. Just like every other session, she pried and picked and tried to tear apart my brain to figure out what I knew. 4 years ago, that might have worked. I was weak back then. I didn't know anything. But things changed. After fighting for your life and surprisingly enough, your _will to survive_ , other things that happen on Earth just aren't as threatening. I kept my mouth shut and my glare deadly. Now, here I am, the backseat of my fathers car, with him fuming about how I "need to open up" and "actually try to help yourself," and it is honestly just absolutely, positively, patheti-

"Taylor, are you even listening to me?" growled my father from the front seat. His driving seemed a little reckless, swerving in front of cars, a bit too close for comfort.

Looking down, i started flipping my knife again. It had only taken me about three months to acquire the skill. "Yes." I lied.

And so, my father continued to rant and rave, and attempt to raise hell over some dumb therapy appointment. What's the point in discussing something as meaningless as emotions when I can just offload everything into the empathy link and receive any response I need? Speaking of the empathy link, somebody was pulling at my senses.

* * *

It was Soleil. I could tell as my senses slipped to his body.

Pain and heat was the first thing I felt. Then sadness. I opened my eyes, to see the lifeless face of a man staring at me. Father. Not my father, Soleil's. The lines on his face had loosened, the sweet mercy of death having put them to rest. His brown hair had ash in it, probably the result of Soleil. He looked... serene. How cliche. The roar of gunfire eventually entered the fray, and the taste of ash permeated the air. 

_Run, Soleil. Run!_ I could tell it wasn't just me thinking these thoughts. I could feel the others, all saying that he needed to get out of there. But he was angry. A shock, considering the calm, respectful Soleil we had lived with for 3 years. We could all feel the burning anger that roiled within his gut. His gaze affixed on one of the SWAT soldiers. I was confused for a second. SWAT? In Spain? What could they be doing there? 

There didn't seem to be time for my questions. An orange glow started coming from the SWAT soldiers mouth. He screamed, but the air around him was being sucked in, used as a sort of internal oven, used to fuel the fire inside of him. A few seconds later, he crumbled to ash. In all honesty, I was amazed. I'd seen Soleil's ability a hundred times over, but each time it always seemed like the most beautiful. The orange glow was as effulgent as it was effective. Within minutes half of the SWAT team was piles of ash on the floor.

Soleil ran before the second half could make its way inside the house. Barging through the back dorr and trampling across a no doubt hard worked for garden. Hopping the fence, and running, you could tell he didn't skip leg day. He could have killed the rest of them. Almost any of the rest of us would have. But this is Soleil. He has morals that some of us don't share. I could feel him pushing us out from behind his eyes, cutting off our listening from his ears. His next five and a half words sent shivers up my spine. 

_They're coming after all of us._

* * *

They were already there when we had arrived home. Mom was in the house. She wasn't breathing anymore. I could tell.

We pulled into the driveway, dad jumping out before the car had stopped in front of our quaint little rust-colored suburban house.

"Hey! What the hell is going-" And he was gunned down. No hesitation.

I shared my senses with the others. About ten excepted. I had little doubt that half of those who didn't were battling for their own lives, and the other half was watching, and encouraging.

I stooped low in my seat, already knowing the team was walking closer. I closed my eyes. Now was a good a time as any. 

_Focus,_ I breathed. My power crackled at the edge of my vision, and a several pictures filled my minds eye. The inflatable dragon and winged-cat across the streets. _Might be useful,_ I mused. The giant stone toad behind the house, with the two ceramic turkeys next to it. A plan formed before the other pictures could. I smirked as I calmly got out of the car, and walked forward with my hands raised. I had bought enough time. Or, at least enough time to buy more. They kept their guns level with my heart.

_Probably shoot to kill. They could certainly try. Viva voluntatem et mandata mea._

Unbeknownst to them, the giant air-filled black reptilian and his chiropteran feline friend had managed to cross the street in that short amount of time. Thank goodness for them being full of air AND having wings. They both pounced just as the stone frog hopped it's way on top of the roof.

The soldiers started firing at their attackers, the inflatables filling with holes as my power slipped from their inanimate bodies. One of them wrestled with the inflatable cloth, having been purposefully obscured from view. Phase 1 down. Time for phase 2.

_Viva voluntatem et mandata mea._

The gummy worms were already crawling out the door as one of the soldiers was knocked down by the stone frog. I know, gummy worms, a weird choice. But they were essential to the plan. The other two were already firing at me, and I ducked behind the PT Cruiser. The frog slowly advanced on it's next enemy of choice. The two ceramic turkeys had finally made their way around the house and to the front. They were flanking the toad as he moved. The SWAT soldier was already aiming at the living statues, but his weapon was snatched away by a stone rope before he could get off a shot.

The turkeys advanced as the frog prepared his tongue for another strike. The soldier took a step back. I grinned. _Wrong step._ The frog deftly slammed his tongue into the soldiers chest, knocking him backward. He could have easily recovered if not for the tripwire of gummy worms behind him. And maybe the weight of the frog too, the soldiers gun still hanging out of his mouth a good couple of feet. I quickly turned him inanimate. His entire body stilled as his tongue was retracting into his mouth, the weight of the tongue and the gun too heavy. The tongue broke off, smacking the SWAT soldier square in the face, knocking him out cold.

That left me with two turkeys, a marble tortoise from the front of the garage, and a handful of mosaic butterflies. I could feel the metal rooster inside, and the stone angel on the wall.

 _Come_ , I beckoned them all. _Fight._

The stone angel soared out of the house, momentarily distracting the man from looking for me. During the fray, I had hidden behind a hedge. He shot the ngel out of the sky, cracking her perfectly crafted face. She made no sign of even realizing it had happened. Realizing she wouldn't come down as easily as the inflatables, he riddled her with bullets, effectively shattering her.

I looked at the sky as I weared him down with the turkeys next. Stars. Huh. I didn't realize it had gotten late.

"Come out with your hands behind your head. We would like you to surrender peaceful- AY!" His sentence was interrupted my the metal claws of the rooster scratching across his back.

While his back was turned I rushed out with my knife. The mosaic butterflies distracted him for the next few seconds it took me to reach him.

I slammed the hilt of my knife into the joint between his neck and his shoulder blade. He let go of the gun, the pain reaching him fast enough for me to put my knife at his throat.

"Come after me again, and I won't stop the knife when I reach this point." I whispered in his ear before roughly letting go, turning around, fully expecting what would happen next.

Keeping his eyes on me, he reached towards the gun he had dropped. His hand found the tortoise instead. As his head turned in shock, time seemed to slow. I deftly turned around, re orientated the knife in my hand...

And slashed right through his Achilles tendon. Clean as butter. His scream, however, were guttural, raw. Like an animal. I continued forward, picking up the gun that the tortoise had moved away from in favor of returning to his original place. Admiring it, I couldn't help but notice the letters on the side. G.O.U.R.D. I looked at the others. Sure enough, there suits said the same. I turned to the one who had previously been thrashing in the inflatable. He was dead. Suffocation. I turned away, already sprinting down the street.

_Get ready to meet up. Signing off. For now._

And I disconnected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The answer will be in the next chapter. G.O.U.R.D. Stands for Government Organization Under Research and Development.


End file.
